


Balance

by Hekate1308



Series: Balance and New Beginnings [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 12x14 coda, Coda, Gen, M/M, althought probably more of a fix-it, and some days i am bitter, it's one of the bitter days, sometimes i am full of love, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 05:35:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10074557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: He has no idea why this is the last straw. With how often they have lied and betrayed one another, Sam joining the Men of Letters shouldn’t come as a surprise, especially considering he was always the type to think about retirement and a world without the supernatural, while Dean was content to go down kicking.Either way, he's leaving. And he's not coming back.Post-12x14.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings and thoughts about this episode, but I will just leave you with one: Dean Winchester deserves better. Enjoy!

He has no idea why this is the last straw. With how often they have lied and betrayed one another, Sam joining the Men of Letters shouldn’t come as a surprise, especially considering he was always the type to think about retirement and a world without the supernatural, while Dean was content to go down kicking.

Or maybe it’s not Sam joining them; hell, he learned long ago he can’t control his brother.

It’s Sam’s insistence that theirs is the right way. The only way.

Eradicating _every_ monster in the US.

How could he, after Benny? How could Sam, thinking of Garth?

It’s too much. Even for someone like him, who’s a natural killer.

“But Dean, once we’re done – “

“There’ll still be ghosts. Demons. Ever thought of that?”

“But we don’t have to – “                

He shakes his head.

“No, Sam. If this is about some utopian shit where you can retire and not feel bad anymore about what’s out there...”

That Sam did that once already while he was fighting in Purgatory, the accusation burns on his tongue. But he won’t say it out loud. It still stings, even after five years.

“Dean, Sam is right”.

Oh great. Mom came back from her last little chat with the Brits.

He doesn’t even listen to what she says next. He only looks at her and Sam, both so convinced that they are right and he’s wrong, because he’s a stupid hunter who can’t amke his own decision, and something in him snaps.

Maybe it’s Mary trying to talk down to him like John. Maybe it’s Sam, almost smirking because Mom is backing him.

Either way, he’s done.

“No”.

It’s all he says as he turns around. Neither of them bother to follow him as he walks into his room and packs his duffel bag.

This time though, he takes everything with him. His weapons. His books. His typewriter.

When he moves to pick up the pictures of Mom and Sam he’s carried around his whole life, he stops. Considers.

Leaves them there.

Sam and Mom are discussing their next step in the library.

“I’m leaving” he announces, adjusting the strap of his bag.

“When will you be back?” Mary asks, apparently not even wondering where he’s going, probably figuring he’ll allow himself an old-fashioned hunt and then come back, tail between his legs.

“I won’t” he says simply.

Finally, they both look surprised. Sam opens his mouth, but Dean, for the first time since he can remember (as a human, anyway) is not interested in what his brother has to say.

“Goodbye, Sam.”

This time he means it.

Again, neither tries to stop him. They either figure he’s not worth it or he’ll return soon.

It doesn’t even hurt. He’s numb.

He stays numb until he’s about ten miles from the bunker, when he has to pull over and choke back the sobs that are desperate to get out.

He just – ended the life he’S been used to since he was four years old. And he has nowhere to go, no one to –

No. Of course there’s someone. But he’s off looking for the devil’s baby mama, and –

His phone rings.

“Hello, Dean. I – wanted to check in”.

He can’t hold it back anymore. Wonderful, first he wants Cas here so much that he’s apparently longing for him, and now he’s crying to him over the phone.

“Dean?”

He sounds worried now. He forces himself to relax so he can speak.

“I left the bunker. I won’t be back.”

“Dean?” he says, again, unsure, confused.

Dean knows the feeling.

“I can’t, Cas. Sam is working with the Men of Letters too, after all their rogue operative did, and Mom is hell-bent on killing everything that has too many teeth. That’s not...”

He trails off, because shouldn’t this be exactly who he is? Ketch put it right. He’s a killer.

“I’m in Minnesota” Cas says immediately.

“Where can we meet?”

He drives through the next five hours, him and Cas meeting in the middle.

God, a hug has never felt this good. Apart maybe from the one they shared after Cas thought he’d died to get rid of Amara.

“Dean” he says softly, pulling away.

“You need food and rest.”

He chuckles.

“That bad, huh?”

Cas shakes his head.

“Not at all.”

They end up in a small diner, and with the way Cas orders burgers and pie for him and fusses over him, the waitress clearly thinks they are dating, but Dean couldn’t care less.

“So, do you have any news on Kelly?”

“Are you sure – “

“Better than crying about my stupid family drama” he tells his best friend. “So?”

Cas sighs but complies.

“I have a lead. I think she is in Iowa, and if I am right, she is protected by a yellow-eyed demon.”

“One of those Ramiel mentioned?”

Cas nods.

“Great. So I guess we’ll need Crowley.”

“Dean – “

“Cas” he interrupts him. “I can’t do anything about Mom’s and Sam’s decisions. This is mine. Unless you don’t want me here – “

“No!” Cas grabs his hand. “I – I mean – I do want you here” he confirms, withdrawing his hand. Dean catches it and squeezes for a moment before letting go.

“Good, ‘cause you’re stuck with me now.”

“There are worse things” is all the answer Cas gives, but his eyes are sparkling.

All in all, Dean feels much better than expected after having left the better.

He’s not even sad anymore. He’s _relieved_.

He sleeps without nightmares, Cas watching over him.

Crowley is naturally not stocked to hear from him, still angry about his son, but angry he can handle. He’s met lots of angry demons.

“Do you want to help us get rid of Lucifer’s kid or not?” he hisses when Crowley keeps pestering him, and he reluctantly agrees.

They didn’t tell him they called his mother too, because there’s bound to be some tension going on, and by Crowley’s expression when he sees her they were clearly right.

There’s somthing else going on here, though; Rowena looks much too... gleeful, as if she’s having fun watching her son suffer, and that just rubs him entirely in the wrong way.

Cas looks worried too, so he takes his hand again like he did in the diner, to reassure him, of course, only to –

Who’s he kidding? He threw his whole life away yesterday, might as well admit to himself that he – well, he might not be as straight as he thought he was.

“We’ll deal with it later” he murmurs. Cas stares at him, stupefied.

He squeezes his hand again.

“We’ll deal with _all_ of it” he promises.

“Matzel Tov, Squirrel. What’s the plan?”

He almost forgot Crowley and Rowena are watching.

He lets go of Cas’ hand.

“First of all, we need to get rid of the yellow-eyed demon.”

“It’s Dagon” Crowley says.

“How do you know?”

“I have my ways” is all he says, even though Rowena won’t let it go.

“This is no time to play coy, Fergus – “

“Alright” Dean snaps, “First Dagon, then we talk to Kelly.”

The look Crowley shoots him is almost thankful.

What follows is surprisingly anticlimactic. Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised; Rowena has banished Lucifer often enough, so one small demon, yellow eyes or not, is no match for her.

Kelly is cowering in a corner when they approach her.

Crap. He really should have thought about that harder. It’s been months, and she’s very visibly pregnant now.

They can’t just...

“We’re not here to hurt you, okay” Dean says slowly.

“Please, just hear us out.”

It takes hours to get her to see what Dagon was trying to do, that the son of a bitch was just happy to have a Prince of Hell to raise for evil, but slowly she starts to believe them.

“I still want it” she tells them firmly, however. “It’s not completely _his_. It’s mine, too.”

She’s determined, stronger than she’s been before. Apparently Dagon boosting her self-esteem backfired badly.

“It’s too late for an abortion anyway” she adds.

“Technically – “ Crowley begins.

“Crowley” Dean says tiredly.

Miraculously, he shuts up.

“Look, I am not saying abortion. I am just saying that the witch who helped banish Lucifer is going to make sure no one can find you, alright? And it would be a good idea to bind your kid’s powers. Just saying. Imagine preschool.”

She smiles somewhat painfully.

“You can do that while it’s still – “

“You’d be surprised what magic can do” Rowena says, rubbing her hands.

“We’ll get the wee barn to behave, don’t worry.”

Yes, definitely anticlimactic.

But also somewhat cathartic.

No death, no drama. For once.

 _Don’t worry about Kelly anymore_ , he texts Sam. _It’s been handled._

He doesn’t pick up when his brother calls, and he doesn’t reply to Mom’s text – _What does that mean? Are you coming back soon?_ either.

Rowena has already left with Kelly. Should be safe enough, considering she doesn’t have a personal vendetta against her and as much of a reason to keep Lucifer’s child safe, protected and human like everybody else.

“Moose and Squirell at odds? Say it isn’t so” Crowley remarks.

Dean shrugs.

“I quit.”

The demon’s eyes widen. “What do you – “

“The family business. Was going into a direction I didn’t want. British dicks.” He glances at Crowley, Cas  a comforting warmth next to him.

“No offense.”

“None taken. I’m not a fan myself. Are you really going to stop hunting?”

“Nah”. He slings his arm around Cas’ shoulder.

“I’ll stick with Cas, as long as he’ll have me.”

It will feel good to look after his angel for a bit. God knows what would have happened if he hadn’t been there to prove to Kelly that not all angels are baby-killing dicks, so Dagon may have lied to her.

Crowley nods.

“Feel free to drop in” Dean tells him.

As an afterthought, he adds, “I know all about deadbeat parents, believe me”.

Life goes on after that.

He and CAs make a great team – not that that’s new. It’s still nice.

Easy. Uncomplicated.

Although they always sleep in the same bed now, yes sleep, because Cas needs to on a regular basis. He’s also begun to eat.

When Dean asks about it because he’s done with goddamn secrets, he’s honest.

“I’m falling. Of my own free will.”

“If you really want to – “

“Yes” he tells him, reaching out, cradling his face in his hands.

They have never touched like this before.

“Then why not just cut it out?” he murmurs, leaning into the touch.

“I don’t want it to be used by anyone. This way, it ebbs away, ceases to exist.”

“And you’re left with a soul.”

Cas nods.

His lips are warm and soft, and Dean hasn’t been this happy in –

He can’t remember.

Mom and Sam still try to reach him on occasion, and it keeps surprising him how little he cares.

Crowley has weirdly become somewhat of a hunting body. It’s not at all unusual these days for him to zap in randomly and get rid of a ghost they’re grappling with. He even buys them dinner now and then.

Six months into this new but kind of brilliant existence, they meet the Men of Letters again.

And it’s worse, so much worse than he thought.

They’re actually in town because of a ghoul. They just got rid of it when they notice articles about kettle being slaughtered, and from the bite wounds, it looks like it could be vamps.

If so, they’re pretty nice for bloodsuckers. They even leave money behind for the cows.

They decide to check it out, just in case.

What they come across is a crime scene.

Two undeniably British (seriously, that accent should be its own language) guys are viciously decapitating the vamps, who are not even fighting. They are begging and crying and telling them they haven’t killed anyone, it was only a few cows, and oh God, not my wife, please –

They don’t even think. They just attack.

Even as a human, Cas is a freaking good fighter, and really, it would end up with them subduing the brits, if they were not surrounded by vampires who have just lost several loved ones.

But even so, they don’t drink a drop of their blood. And they promise to burn the bodies.

It’s not going to bother Dean very much.

Connie, the leader, reminds him a bit of Leonore, actually.

He gives her his number.

“Just in case”.

_Just in case more humans come after you stays unspoken._

It’s a first for them, that’s sure.

“It’s unnatural” Cas says firmly once they’re back in the motel room. “There has to be a balance we can find. Monsters were created by my Father as well.”

“Try getting them to understand that” Dean replies.

Actually, a balance sounds pretty freaking good, now that he comes to think of it.

“Are you thinking what I am thinking?”

And his world shifts again, just a little.

They still hunt, but they also search for good monsters who just happen to be on the radar because of little slip ups like breaking and entering into a morgue (the kitsune family’s somewhat legally procured stash ran out and they had to feed their kids) or a prank gone wrong (the witch could hardly know the guy would use the non-lethal rabbit’s food to win millions at a casino), or corpses disappearing (ghouls need to learn to be more careful).

They warn them, tell them about the Men of Letters.

Learn that there’s actually something like a network of good monsters.

They set them up with Garth.

Dean, he realizes that night, driving with Cas asleep next to him, has become more than a killer. Than a hunter.

He’s a protector now, too.

And a lover.

He entwines their fingers as he drives on.

Crowley appears in the backseat.

About time. It’s been three days.

“The ghouls – “

“On the move. They know to be more careful, now.”

He sees Crowley nod in the rearview mirror.

Suddenly, he asks “Do you still have Michael’s Lance?”

“So you do have Lucifer then?”

They’ve been suspecting it for some time. Crowley isn’t even surprised that he knows.

Isn’t it the most ironic thing in the world that just a few days later he hands a repaired lance to the King of Hell, who returns ten minutes later to tell them the biggest threat they’ve ever faced is dead.

He doesn’t bother telling Sam. He got a new phone months ago anyway.

Sometimes, during their search for the balance Cas prophesied, he wonders what other hunters think of them. If they even know.

Apparently they do, because one day the twins stand in their motel rooms, all thankful and crying.

As it turns out, once of the witches who heard just in time and got out of her hometown before the Men of Letters could arrive is their aunt.

“We’re not the only ones” Alicia says after he’s introduced them to Cas (there seem to be some awe-inspiring stories going on about him too, if their jaws dropping is any indication).

“Many hunters check if the monsters mean any harm now. Turns out, they can live without hurting humans, if they’re willing to compromise. A friend of ours actually started dating a Lamia”.

“Good for him”.

She nods.

“What about the Men of Letters?” Cas asks. “Are many hunters joining them?”

She snorts.

“Not at all. Once word got around that Dean Winchester walked away, anyone interested changed their opinion.”

“They’ve got Sam and Mom.”

“No offense, but one was dead for thirty years and the other drank demon blood. You’ve always been a favourite of the hunting community, really. Didn’t you know?”

No. He had no freaking idea.

But as Cas kisses him that night, he finds he doesn’t mind much.

They reach out to hunters after that too. Until now, they avoided hangouts because Dean didn’t want to hear any more British pricks going on about the ultimate solution, but it’s just the opposite, really.

Because they’re not just hunter meet-ups anymore.

Hell, they meet a _Banshee_ on one of them.

Give it to them, the Men of Letters really changed things.

Just not the way they wanted.

There are still bad monsters, of course, but there’ll also always be bad humans, so that’s not something they worry about much. Lately, even monsters have started contacting them to let them know they handled the more dangerous of their kind.

Really, compared to what Dean’s life was like before, this is Heaven.

And then it gets better.

Crowley has made a habit of either showing up or calling daily, so he knows something’s up when he gets a text.

_Got someone who wants to talk to you. Summoned me._

Summoned –

Right. Still demon. It’s just been a while since this was necessary when it comes to Crowley.

There’s only so many drinks you can have with someone commiserating over their parents before you become friends. (and that’s only if he doesn’t count being a demon. They probably _were_ besties back then).

 _Bring them here_ he texts back.

Cas and he trade a knowing look after he lets his lover know.

There’s a knock on the door.

“Hey, Crowley” he says, “Come in. Craig’s in the fridge.”

Crowley sweeps past without glancing back at their visitor.

It’s Sam.

Sam, only he looks so much worse than he did when he saw him last –

God, it’s been over a year.

He looks a little bit like –

He looks like Dad.

“I know” his brother said. “That’s why I left.”

Dean steps aside.

“Come on in. Only, this time...” he trails off, feeling Cas step up to him, a hand resting on the small of his back.

Sam swallows, obviously surprised, but says nothing.

“One condition” he says. “This time, you listen.”

Sam nods and looks down on the floor.

It’s a start.


End file.
